Of Cabbages & Kings

THE NATIONAL FOLK FESTIVAL COMES TO RICHMOND, VIRGINIA FOR ITS THIRD YEAR: Sometimes Storytelling Journeys are Hidden in Unexpected Places It's hard to resist the combination of a sparklingly vibrant autumn day and the National Folk Festival coming to your home city. Apparently 175,000 people could not resist that combination this past weekend. And, though I suffered, as most teachers and Ph.D. students do, from a consistent overdose of work, reading, projects, and homework, I nevertheless knew I would take a few hours out of the weekend to check the National Folk Festival out. It was too enticing of an opportunity to pass up. So, trailed by my family and holding a textbook that never got opened, we parked our car a few blocks away and enjoyed the fall sunshine as we meandered along the canal walk, past the canal boats weighed down with their guides and tourists, through Shockoe-Bottom to the James River and Belle and Brown Islands. The setting could not have been more magnificent, with the James River full of layers of bridges, rocks, small islands and trees. Old factories on the banks of the refurbished remnants of a canal system first envisioned by George Washington now housed museums that we would come back to explore another day, since there was too much of a banquet on offer already. Huge tents were scattered everywhere. At least six major venues featured folk bands, dance bands, gourd orchestras, drummers, dancers of all sorts and ethnic variations from Native American to Appalachian to Baltic, and even a storyteller of Native American extraction. Ethnic food aromas tempted at every turn. Crafts from around the country; boats being built, steel drums being demonstrated, dances and skills of all sorts, from woodworking to quilting, weaving to basket-weaving, timberframing to harmonica-playing were being demonstrated.

The favorite souvenir find of the festival appeared to be small wooden bird-shaped whistles that sounded uncannily like bird calls. They were everywhere, and their many sounds wafted through the air around us as we strolled--but they had sold out, when we enquired after them for my young daughter--however, we were told they can be found on Carey Street in the Ten Thousand Villages Shop in Richmond--a shop well worth visiting in its own right.

My children found something to love in John Styles' presentation of the ancient art of Punch and Judy. Who knew that a tradition centuries old could still be so sidesplittingly funny? Three days of continuous celebration of the folk arts of this country and all the world traditions from which they hail--What fun! I found myself wishing I could have spent all three days at the festival, that I could have brought a blanket and a picnic and just done my homework with all that wonderful variety of music and dance in the background all weekend long--there was too much on offer to explore in a brief couple of hours. We did our best to hit an act or two at each of the major venues--enjoying Dixieland Jazz, Junkyard Bands, Western Swing, Indian drumming and dancing, African-American Gospel, Native American drumming and dancing, and a variety of Appalachian and Country groups, not to mention the Baltic sounds of The Jerry Grcevich Tamburitza Orchestra. I'll bet you don't even know what a tamburitza is! I didn't either until I witnessed this group. A complete listing and description of the various groups, as well as many audio clips can be found at http://www.nationalfolkfestival.com/events_performers.html.

As we wandered, my children informed me that they had had visits from several of the groups at their schools. My son's favorite group? VISHTEN, from Prince Edward Island, Nova Scotia--a young energetic group of musicians and step dancers playing music informed by their Acadian, Irish and Scottish heritages. Our family had made the same sort of so-journ last year--and I had taken along a textbook then, as well--reading a few pages while my daughter enjoyed a snack at the picnic tables. The weather had been fine both years, and landscapers had obviously been hard at work in-between. This area of Richmond had never looked better (Although we could use some rain. Newly-sodded and sown grass everywhere was completely brown--although it didn't appear too out of place as it was October and the season for autumnal colors.). Walking paths were well-defined, and many more trees and native grasses borded the canal and points in-between than I remembered from the year before. This year, while my daughter decorated a brown bag hat in the children's area (home to the gourd band, I believe, although I missed that particular attraction, much to my chagrin), I settled down to enjoy the Native American storyteller in the tent just below. I know from my studies that oral storytelling, the grandmother of theatre, and great grandmother of books, and great great grandmother of film, is making a comeback. Today, there is a resurgence of people interested in preserving and carrying on the craft of this particular art. One of the venues for such preservation efforts is the National Storytelling Festival in Jonesborough, Tennessee, which I will address in another post. I had wondered, in my own musings prior to the actual festival, whether oral storytelling would make it to the National Folk Festival. It is difficult not to be exposed to this reappearing ancient art--and I had enjoyed such exposure while studying for my Masters Degree in Children's Literature at Hollins University. If it had made it to the National Folk Festival the previous year, I had not encountered it. But this year, just as I had speculated, it had made an appearance in the narratives of Dovie Thomason, an award-winning storyteller reknowned worldwide for her ability to share the oral traditions of her native people. She was personable, with a rich voice, and a way of looking at her audience as if she knew each one of you personally. . . . and she deftly managed to quickly replace stereotypical images of Native culture with insights from her personal experiences, After a few minutes, I easily slipped into her secondary world filled with tales of her heritage from her Kiowa Apache and Lakota relatives. For further information about her recordings and books of Native stories that have received Parents' Choice, The American Library Association, Storytelling World and Audiofile awards you may visit her website through the above link. Later, I found myself reflecting that much of what we enjoyed at the festival could be useful to those interested in the field of children's narratives, not just the offerings of oral storytellers. Punch and Judy shows are part of an ancient theatrical tradition that has delighted children for centuries, and could very well be the forerunners to some of the strange friendships that litter the children's narrative field today. And what of all the music we were enjoying, much of it full of energy leading to much foot-stomping and handclapping from both children and adults in their audiences? Isn't music and dance a dominant force in many narratives of the children's theatre and film universe? With this observation in mind, I felt no guilt as I soaked up the ambiance, the different cultures and traditions--for who knew where it might leak in my own work someday, somewhere, and somehow? The banks of the James River were packed both years; and, late Sunday afternoon, announcers began informing the crowds that, despite the fact that the National Folk Festival would now move on to other cities and locations (It stays in one location for three years before rotating. Next year it will move to Butte, Montana), Richmond will continue to host an annual Richmond Folk Festival, making this tradition its own, and many major groups have already agreed to come back next year. It seems that those huge crowds that day were witnessing the beginnings of a new tradition celebrating and preserving many old traditions. If you missed it this year, you can enjoy a slide show of the events at http://www.nationalfolkfestival.com/index.html; and, trust me, don't miss it next year! It was an example of urban living at its best. If you combine it with a boat tour of the canal and dinner at one of the pubs or restaurants in Shockoe Bottom, you will go home with an unforgettable memory etched in your mind. Sometimes unforgettable memories, and storytelling journeys can hide in plain sight and in unexpected places right underneath your very nose--in this case, on the banks of the rocky James River in Richmond, Virginia.

You can check out a slideshow of this year's festival at an excellent website for the event hosted at http://www.nationalfolkfestival.com/